We’re all gonna die.
You’re gonna fucking die, yeah?
Me too.
Is the fear of cringe worth saying no to the one chance we have at life?
I’m 25, jobless, nearly friendless, yet as far from dreamless as I’ve been since i was a kid.
I am on a journey. From burnout to bestseller. From unwanted weirdo to world-class performer and studio artist.
It’s what i want. And it’s gonna be a helluva journey to get to where i actually want to be.
But i know I’m finally ready to start, because if i were to die tomorrow, i would die content with myself—because i committed. I grew enough to be able to commit to my deepest, most loving dreams. And even that is enough.
Fuck cringe, commit. For the version of you that will look back from their deathbed and need to feel “it was enough. I was enough.”